Year Eight
by CallieBellez
Summary: The crew from series 1-2 back in the day...how they met, and what went on. see first chapter for full explanation. rated T for anticipated language & situations. R


Authors note: I'm a poor writer/editor. I own nothing. Please don't sue me….unless you wanna be paid in sexual favors. [that's a joke…]

This is the story of the gang from series 1 & 2 in grade eight. I'm really surprised no one has ever written a fic like this before. I think one of the things I like most about Skins is that it leaves so much to the imagination – so many of the little details. However, after watching every single episode from the 1st & 2nd series more times than I care to admit, I came up with some answers / ideas. I have reasons for every fictional claim I make in this story, and I really want it to be as realistic as possible – so ask if you have questions – and let me know if you have any suggestions. Thanks!

Anwar I – the first day of school

Anwar Kharral was having one of those moments when all he wanted to do was sink straight through the ground. It was day one of year eight, and there was no way he was going in there. He'd been sitting on the school green for almost half an hour because his father insisted he not be late.

"Education is the most important thing, my son," his father told him in the car. "Without it you can do nothing, go nowhere. Is that what you want?"

"No, Dad," Anwar answered almost automatically.

He'd replayed the conversation over and over in his head for the past hour.

His grades at his old school had been barely passing. He knew this year would have to be different. He'd have to work his ass off, and as much as he hated to admit it, Anwar was much more concerned about making friends than achieving good marks. So far there were no prospects friends, only prospects of people who wanted to beat him to a pulp because of the color of his skin. He'd expected that of course.

The gangly British boy was used to being called a Packy. But the group of thick-headed boys lining the door to the school – some even with cigarettes shoved between their cubby little fingers – looked even meaner than most of the bullies at his old school combined.

Anwar's feet felt frozen – glued to the grass beneath him. According to his watch he only had five minutes to get inside and find his classroom before school began.

Just then, a skinny blonde boy ran in front of him towards the door. Anwar was surprised when he was stopped by the other boys.

"Batty boy's back!" One of them yelled.

"Yeah, how was your holiday, batty boy?" One spat.

"Go on anyway camping trips?" Another asked.

The rest laughed.

"Sod off," The blonde boy said with a shake of his head. He pushed them aside and continued walking on without another problem.

Anwar felt encouraged by this. Perhaps their bark was worse than their bite. With four minutes left now, he didn't reall have another choice.

He moved one food in front of the other.

"Where do you think you're going, eh, Packy?" The biggest boy asked.

"Just sod off," Anwar sighed – stealing the words of the boy he'd seen before.

"We don't let packies talk to us like that, do we , Jake?"

"No, we don't!"

"How do you feel about a little light slapping before school today, boy?"

"Or maybe we should just steal his curry lunch!" Another suggested.

Anwar sighed. If they ddi, in fact get into his lunch, he knew they would have a fild day when they found he really did pack some of his mum's leftover curry for lunch.

The rest of the exchange felt like it happened in slow motion. The blonde boy from before noticed the telling coming from behind him and he turned around without another thought.

"Leave him alone!" He exclaimed.

"Oh, you're going to tell us what to do now, gay boy?" The boy called Jake asked.

"Yeah, I'm going to tell you to leave us both alone. Now for the last time sod off!" he said.

Anwar felt the boy's hand grasp his forearm, dragging him into the school.

"Sorry about them," he said with genuine, apologetic eyes staring up into Anwar's own deep brown ones. "They ust like to have a laugh. Don't let them get to you. I'm Maxxie by the way. Maxxie Oliver."

"I'm Anwar. I'm new, I guess."

"Right, well what's your first class?" Maxxie asked.

Anwar just handed over his schedule in response. He was far too shell-shocked to say or do much else.

"Oh, cool!" Maxxie exclaimed. "You've got Maths with me first. We have a few afternoon classes together too. We should hurry, though. Mr. Harris hates it when you're late."

Anwar just nodded and took off behind Maxxie down the hall.

"I'm crap at Math's," Anwar complained.

"Mate," Maxxie laughed. "I was in remedial courses up until last year. You could probably fucking tutor me in Maths."

Anwar smiled. So far, so good.

***

Anwar made it through the rest of the morning unscathed., but lunch looked to be a nightmare – filled with tables of kids who already had some sort of label applied to them or a group to fit in to.

So far Anwar was just a packy boy. And there wasn't a table full of them…

Anwar took a seat at the end of a particularly empty table and opened his curry. The smell seemed to penetrate everything, and people were giving him disapproving looks within a matter of minutes.

"What is that? Smells delicious!" A familiar voice asked from above him.

"OH, just curry. My mum made it," Anwar said, unsurprised to see the bright, smiling face of Maxxie Oliver.

"How was the rest of your morning?" Maxxie asked. He took a tentative seat across the table from Anwar.

"Good," he replied.

"Max!" A voice called from just a few feed away. "You won't believe it. Sid's aread downed two entire plates of chips. He's going for a third, and still looking up to stare inappropriately at Chelle's tits in between! You've got to help me stop the madness!" The darker haired boy paused. "Who's this, then?"

"Tony, this is Anwar. He's new, and he's in a few of my courses. Anwar, Tony Stonem." Maxxie said politely.

"Right. Cool. Max? Lets go."

"I'll catch up with you later, Tony," Maxxie said.

Tony looked confused, but walked away anyway.

"Sorry about him," Maxxie said.

Anwar shook his head.

"You've been apologizing for a lot of people today."

Maxxie shook his head and laughed. "Well, Tony's just...Tony."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, I've known him pretty much all my life. He likes to be in control of situations…"

"Batty boy and Packy boy!" One of the boys from that morning yelled as he walked past them.

Anwar watched Maxxie's eye meet Tony's from across the room.

Tony stood up to the boy and seemed to have a word.

"So you're really just…one of the lads?" Anwar asked, basically thinking out loud.

Maxxie kind of chuckled. "Well, yeah. I've always known I was gay, basically. And like I said, Tony and I have been friends forever. My mum used to keep house for his mum when we were toddlers," he explained. "And people 'round here really are pretty cool. You get used to jerks like Jake and Phillip and that whole group."

Anwar nodded.

"Does it bother you that I'm gay?"

Anwar shook his head, although he really didn't know. He knew it was **supposed** to bother him. He was a Muslim, and his religion taught him that being gay was wrong. Maxxie didn't seem like a bad person that his uncle's had always warned him of. He seemed nice…kind even. He was the only person to really take him under their wing so far.

"Want to go over and meet the gang?" Maxxie asked.

Maxxie could tell that Anwar looked nervous.

"Seriously, they're all cool," Maxxie said. "And if they're not, I'll just apologize for them later."

Anwar swallowed the last bit of his curry and tossed the container into the trash as he followed Maxxie over to a table of three others. Tony was at the end of the table, and he could only assume the other two were "Sid" and "Chelle."

"Hey guys, this is Anwar. He's new at school. Anwar that's Sid and Michelle."

"Alright, Anwar?" Michelle asked.

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Phillip and Jake were giving Anwar a hard time this morning."

"Oh, don't pay any attention to them," Michelle exclaimed. "They're complete tossers."

Anwar smiled. At that moment he had full confidence that things were going to work out. Things would be just fine…


End file.
